


Paint the Stars

by RedTeamShark



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Author Chose Not To Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2019-09-12 03:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16865632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: And the Accidental Artist Arts and Crafts Center would never be the same again.





	Paint the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Proper warnings, tags, etc, may come in the future. For the time being I'm frantically transferring my content to a stable platform amidst growing concerns about tumblr's inevitable implosion.
> 
> Apologies for flooding the fandom page.

When Ray got an idea in his head, it was generally better to just go along with it, rather than try to fight him on it.

When his idea required him to be taken somewhere not in walking distance from his apartment, he begged Michael for a ride.

When Michael gave in and agreed to bring Ray wherever, he roped Gavin into coming along too.

And when Gavin joined in, things usually dissolved into chaos.

That’s not to say that it was always bad, the outings that Ray began but Gavin usually made unforgettable, the three men laughing until their stomachs hurt and tears ran down their cheeks. Michael would start some vain effort to rein them in before surrendering to the chaos, egging Gavin on in his hilariously destructive tendencies. And Ray would sit back and enjoy the outcome of events that were, technically, his fault—usually without any of the blame.

Accidental Artist Arts and Crafts never stood a chance once Ray got it in his head to go there.

It was two parts needing a present for Michael’s birthday and one part curiosity that had him researching the place to begin with, looking to see if appointments were needed, what sort of supplies they offered, what the costs were. After finding his answers and weighing the pros and cons, he decided that it was worth it to try the place out. Dragging Michael along would ruin the surprise of his birthday present, but it wasn’t like the curly-haired man wanted to be surprised anyways.

On a Saturday afternoon, he and Michael pulled up outside of Geoff’s house, exchanging a look and a sigh that Gavin wasn’t waiting on the front steps like he said he would be. Michael laid on the horn for a few minutes, before grumbling, exiting the car and going to pound on the front door.

Gavin came around the side of the house a moment later, and Ray tried his best to guess their conversation based on their arm movements—Gavin gestured towards the back of the house, Michael to the front steps and then his car. Gavin shrugged in a completely over-exaggerated way. Michael put his head in his hands before looking up again and shoving the younger man towards the car.

When they settled into the vehicle and pulled away from the curb, Ray turned around in his seat.

“You were waiting at the front steps of your apartment, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. How’d you guess?” Gavin grinned, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Because you’re fucking dumb and Ray’s fucking smart.” Michael cut in, rolling up to a stop light. “Which street is it on again, Ray?”

The Puerto Rican gave the address of the arts center, conversation lagging in favor of listening to the radio as Michael drove. They pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, piling out of the car and heading inside. While the outside of the building was rather uniform with the rest of the structures in the area, the inside was painted in bright pastel colors, different works of art on display in the lobby and decorating the various doors down the hallway.

The three men paid their entry fee, Ray looking around before shrugging, grabbing Michael and Gavin by the wrist. He led them past a door surrounded by soft watercolor paintings and another with brightly painted wooden sculptures in display cases to either side, stopping in front of a door with various ceramic items—mugs, bowls, ashtrays, small pots—in the cases to either side. With a smile, he pushed the door open, heading inside.

After some consideration, more than a couple of near-misses on broken items, and help from a very patient employee, the three settled at a table, paints and brushes spread out around them. Michael had a small pot in front of him with a lid, Ray had a coffee mug, and Gavin had a plate.

Mostly still considering what they wanted to paint, exactly, onto their pottery, the three settled into easy conversation.

“So who are you giving that to, Michael?” Gavin wondered, inspecting the numerous bottles of paint that were spread across the workspace.

Michael shrugged. “Lindsay has been talking about getting a fake plant on her desk, so I figure that I’ll give her something to put it in. Either that or she’ll use it as a pen holder.” He selected a small pencil from the table, lifting the pot and beginning to sketch on it. “Ugh, I really suck at drawing, so this is gonna be a trip.”

Gavin hummed, picking up a pencil of his own and beginning to doodle on one side of his plate. “I’m just gonna make something for my room, I think. How about you, Ray?”

Looking up, the youngest man only shrugged. “It’s a not-very-secret surprise gift for someone.” He offered, tapping the end of his pencil thoughtfully against his chin. “And it’s gonna look shitty, because I’m a horrible artist, but the gift receiver better appreciate it anyways.” Under the table, Michael kicked his shin.

For a while they sketched out their ideas, discussion turning from what they were going to draw to more interesting topics—specifically, video games.

“I’m just stuck as hell on this part, and I’m gonna go mental on it.” Gavin explained, sighing and shaking his head. “You should come over and beat it for me, Ray.”

“Hell no. It was enough of a pain in the ass to beat on my own, I’m not gonna do it again if I don’t have to. It’s like the Mile High Club achievement—just keep going until you have it down.” Ray waved a hand, setting his pencil down and leaning back from his mug, looking at his sketch.

“Maybe try using a different controller?” Michael offered, furiously erasing something before beginning to draw again. He glanced up at the silence from the other two, huffing at the looks they were giving him. “Hey, it works for me. Don’t you guys watch Full Play? I switched over to Ray’s silver controller and it works a lot better.”

“I honestly figured that was a joke.” The dark-haired man snickered, reaching for some paints and brushes. “The silver controller actually works better?”

“No wonder Ray always does so well.” Gavin added in, also reaching for paints and brushes.

“Well, the thing I needed to do was about precision, and my thumb sticks were kinda wiggly.” Shrugging, Michael elbowed Gavin. “Ray does well because video games are literally his only life skill. He better do well, or he’d just be a loser.”

“Aw, Michael, I’m hurt.”

“Truth hurts, bitch.”

Conversation lagged as they began painting, each man concentrating on the work before him. Soon enough there were paints and brushes spread haphazardly across the table, colorful spots decorating their pottery (as well as their hands and, due to a moment of frustration and forgetfulness, Michael’s hair). Ray glanced up, smiling a little to see Gavin leaning over his plate, a brush hovering millimeters from the surface as he carefully planned his next stroke, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. Across from him, Michael sat with his brows furrowed in concentration, making slow but deliberate swipes with the brush along the edge of his pot. Ray glanced down at his own coffee mug, hesitating before selecting another brush and color, carefully filling in the planned space.

More focused on the simple arts and crafts project than they perhaps thought possible, Michael and Ray didn’t notice when Gavin decided that he was finished. The Brit got up from the table, handing his plate over to an employee to be glazed and queued for firing in the kiln. For a while he browsed the options, debating on making a second piece. Unable to come to a decision, however, and growing bored, Gavin meandered back to Michael and Ray.

For about three minutes, he stood quietly over Michael’s shoulder, watching him work. When the auburn-haired man bent forward to look at something more closely, he seized the opportunity, immediately climbing onto Michael’s back, attempting to balance himself with his chest pressed to the other man’s back, without holding on with his arms or legs.

“Gavin, what the fuck.” Michael ground out, barely managing to keep his voice down for the sake of the children in the room.

“I’m bored, Michael.” The Brit mock-whined, reaching forward to poke his friend in the cheek. “Entertain me.”

“Go paint something.” Ray advised, not looking up.

“But this is more fun.” Gavin’s voice had taken on a sing-song tone, contrasting the low growl of frustration that Michael released.

“What’s more f—Gavin, what the fuck.” Ray looked up, giving the sandy-haired man a deadpan stare before carefully scooting away from them. “I am in no way related to this incoming disaster.”

“Aw, Ray, don’t be like that—Ah, Michael!” The teasing whine in Gavin’s voice turned into a small shriek of surprise when Michael, apparently tired of having a lanky Brit on his back, stood up. Almost immediately Gavin crashed towards the floor, pinwheeling his arms in a vain effort to keep his balance as he went down.

A much louder crash drowned out the sound of Gavin hitting the floor, all three men turning slowly, eyes wide, as a shelf of ceramic mugs shattered on the floor.

An employee was over to them in a second, asking if everyone was alright, helping Gavin from the mess before going to get a broom. The three exchanged a guilty look, scooting away as the employee cleaned up. It was obvious to them that one of Gavin’s arms had struck the display while he was falling.

“God dammit.” Michael muttered, again running a paint-splashed hand through his hair.

“You shouldn’t have made me fall, Michael.” Gavin tried to justify, pointedly not looking at the mess he’d created, instead picking at a loose thread on the bottom of his t-shirt.

“And you shouldn’t have climbed on me like a fucking child.” The curly-haired man hissed, shoving his friend’s shoulder.

“Guys, guys.” Ray cut in, moving to begin cleaning up their table. “It was an accident, so let’s just clean up and get our stuff glazed and go home.” The other two men moved to clean the table with him, putting away paints and washing brushes. Michael took the pieces over to be glazed and queued for firing, the three leaving together quickly.

“The guy said it’d be about four days until they were ready.” Michael mentioned as they passed the front desk.

“I’ll come down and pick the stuff up, if you want.” Ray offered, smiling a little as he got into the car. “Can bring it with me to work for you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

–

Four days later, Ray got a ride back to the art center, picking up the pieces he, Gavin, and Michael had painted. He hesitated by the front desk, looking around nervously before pulling out his wallet, dropping a couple of bills into the donation jar and quickly leaving the building.

When he gifted Michael the mug for his birthday, the curly-haired man’s smile made him decide that the trip—disaster and all—was well worth it.


End file.
